


Hot-Bunking

by Wreybies



Category: Another Life (TV 2019)
Genre: Beards (Facial Hair), Bears, Bellies are beautiful, Belly Kink, Borderline "M" / "E", Canon Non-Binary Character, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Genderfluid, Kissing, M/M, Making Love, Men of size, Porn with Feelings, Queers in Space, S01E10 "Hello", Size Difference, boricua, boricuas in space, enby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 14:26:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20027290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wreybies/pseuds/Wreybies
Summary: Bernie and Zayn make it official in Episode 10. The show cuts away; I pull the camera back.





	Hot-Bunking

* * *

Zayn leaned into the open doorway to Bernie’s bunk. These rooms were unforgivably tiny considering the huge open spaces to be found in the rest of the ship. Bernie was tucked into a corner of his bed, his face closed in introspection.

“Hey,” said Zayn.

“Hey,” responded Bernie.

Sasha's shooting was weighing on Bernie, for which Zayn was, in a way, thankful. It _should_ weigh on a person, and had Bernie just shrugged it off like nothing, _that_ would have given Zayn serious pause. And of all people, sweet Bernie, the Puerto Rican teddybear who lived to feed people and whom everyone loved because it was in his nature to be lovable, and even _that_ Zayn knew was a kind of coping mechanism.

Sometimes Zayn wished ze could turn off the analytic mind and just _be_ a person here with another person who clearly needed _just_ a person, not a medic or a psychologist.

“Thank you for saving my life,” said Zayn.

“I owed you one,” said Bernie. His warm soft hands went to Zayn’s neck to check the bruises that Sasha had left there, his eyes seeking permission, which Zayn gave silently, wanting more than anything to feel Bernie's caresses, to be held by him, because as much as Bernie was going through, Zayn was not without hir inner turmoil, and right now, in this moment, what Zayn wanted was maybe not the smartest thing to do, but it was the human thing to do.

“I’m okay,” Zayn whispered.

But that wasn’t true. The ancient saying _physician, heal thyself_ ran through Zayn’s mind, tracing the outline and shape of Bernie’s soft, gentle face, his fuzzy beard, and kissing him. But kisses had already been exchanged and as sweet as they were, they were too chaste for what Zayn felt. Zayn wanted Bernie, wanted him in _that_ way. The professional side of hir mind said this was not a good course of action, but the human side said they had gone through too much, were in too much danger, danger that came blow after blow after blow, and Zayn would be damned if death came without having known this beautiful man, this kind soul, these loving hands undoing buttons to find warm skin beneath.

“_Ay, mi cielo, que belleza,_” Bernie whispered into hir neck, his hands frantic to touch everything touchable.

_Belleza_, beauty.

Laughter caught in Zayn’s throat. To be called a beauty by this man, this being of warmth and love. The legendary passion of Bernie’s culture bloomed against Zayn, as rich, deep, and fecund as the jungles of his island.

It wasn’t in any textbook Zayn had ever read or studied, but some things answer to older logic, to more primordial concepts, and making love to Bernie was the medicine Zayn needed, and maybe Bernie too.

Zayn’s shirt was on the floor, Bernie's nose taking in the scent of arousal. Bernie’s dark eyes were even darker, their pupils having gone preternaturally wide.

Zayn slipped the tee-shirt over Bernie’s head and when his face reappeared from the fabric, it had collapsed a little.

“What’s wrong?” Zayn asked.

“You’re so beautiful, and…” Bernie looked away and crumpled.

“No, no, no. Don’t do that.” Zayn gently took Bernie’s cheek, forcing him to make eye contact again. “Thank you for saying I’m beautiful, but Bernie, if this is going to work, if you _want_ this to work, then you have to know-” Zayn placed a hand on the thick, warm, glossy thatch of fur that covered Bernie's chest where his heart was. “-that I am right where I want to be, with the person I want to be with. I don't ever _settle_. I pick _very_ carefully, and I pick _you_ for a million reasons I will tell you later, but right now, sweetie, I want you to make love to me. I want to feel you. I want to know you. Because _you_ are beautiful. Look at me. Do I look like the kind of person who gives a shit what anyone else thinks about appearances? I am who I am. I hope that's at least part of why you want me. That's one of the reasons I want you. Because you are who you are.”

Bernie’s eyes disappeared into his smile.

“Yeah?” he asked, needing reassurance.

“Yes,” replied Zayn, drawing him down to lay in the tiny bunk, maneuvering Bernie so that he was on top.

Bernie resisted.

“Please,” said Zayn. “I want to feel you on top of me. I don’t want to hear you say anything disparaging about yourself. I’ve been thinking about this, and hoping for this, since we were on that moon and you had me test those disgusting fruits.”

“_Puñeta_, they were pretty horrible!” Bernie chuckled.

“Yeah, they were. But this… this is everything I could ever ask for.”

Zayn insisted gently and Bernie acquiesced. For a moment it was overwhelming, and in a strange way, even more intimate than what Zayn hoped would come next. Little by little, Bernie stopped propping himself up with elbows and knees and let his full weight be experienced. His enviable spiral curls unraveled and cascaded around Zayn’s face, enshrouding him, creating a shadowy space for first-time endearments and whispers of appreciation for the wonders at hand. The heavy, hard presence of Bernie’s cock against Zayn’s leg invoked a soft shudder of lust.

Zayn slipped a hand down Bernie’s torso, felt Bernie flinch, waited for him to relax and accept what Zayn very much wished to offer. Finding Bernie’s cock, the size of it, the improbable width, brought a smile of surprise for Bernie’s lips to find in the sweetly soft kisses he had yet to stop giving.

“Sorry,” Bernie said, lifting his pelvis away, misinterpreting the moment.

“Don’t ever be sorry,” said Zayn. “I didn’t really have an expectation, but… wow.” Zayn gripped Bernie’s cock to add emphasis to his sentiment. Taking this man - which Zayn was determined to make happen - was going to be no mean feat.

With Bernie’s hips slightly raised, Zayn took advantage and slipped a hand into the warm depths of Bernie’s pants. He was furry clean to his toes and the heady scent of his sex washed over Zayn, flipping a number of cerebral cortex switches to the off position, and others in the limbic region were cranked to maximum.

Klaxons blared through the ship.

Of course, another insane emergency. It had been, what, ten minutes? Yeah, they were overdue.

“_Maldito sea,_” growled Bernie.

Zayn exhaled heavily in frustration. “Can we put a pin in this until whatever universe-annihilating event is taken care of?” Zayn whispered into his ear, wrapping hir arms around Bernie’s broad chest once more, loathe to let go or leave this little pocket of beauty and possibly love.

“I got more than a pin to put in it,” goofed Bernie, pressing his intimidating cock against Zayn a few times.

“That’s the spirit,” Zayn said, kissing him once more. “I’m going to hold you to that promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have yet to find anything authoritative about Zayn’s pronouns, and the show goes well out of its way to avoid using them, so I’ve gone with ze/hir (the actor's pronouns) until I get something more solid from the canon.


End file.
